


(a desperate sky) A Lonesome Call

by KateMonster



Category: Bandom
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateMonster/pseuds/KateMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phone call, the end, a promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(a desperate sky) A Lonesome Call

**Author's Note:**

> Well, see, sophie_448 wrote one using Cross Canadian Ragweed's 'Cry Lonely' as inspiration, so I had to write one with my wildly appropriately inappropriate alt-country Pete/Mikey song. Which is 'Don't Fade Away' by Bleu Edmondson. I wrote it in 16 minutes and a beta hasn't even been near it. Uh, enjoy!

“Your song’s stuck in my head.”

There’s no answer. He can hear Pete breathing over the line, though, over miles and an ocean. He can, if he closes his eyes, still pretend that his new bunk, a new bus, a new continent, smells like Pete’s hair gel. Which stinks, he always said, and then Pete would laugh, reach for his hair, his grin wide and brittle at the edges. Maybe it’s the shirt he’s wearing. Still wearing, even though they left the States behind days ago, because he remembers Pete’s lips against his neck, his hand clenched around the cotton.

“Don’t-” Mikey says and stops.

“Don’t what, Mikeyway?”

He sighs, listens to Frank shuffle past the bunk and his hand twitches for the curtain, which is already pulled as tight as it will go. Instead he curls up, leans his forehead on his knees and whispers.

“I know,” Pete breathes back at him. “We didn’t say-”

“No, yeah,” Mikey stutters and shakes his head, even though Pete can’t see him. “Just don’t-” he sighs again. “Don’t fade away.”

Pete’s breath catches, ragged and beautiful. That sound was something different a week ago. Everything was different, less loaded. One little indrawn breath is sharper now, when he hears it instead of feeling it against his cheek.

“I won’t.” Pete says, and it’s enough of a promise that Mikey can feel something unclench in his chest.

“Okay,” he breathes. He breathes, and Pete breathes back at him over the phone, and it’s something.


End file.
